


The Adventures of Jim and Sebastian.

by ColonelSMoran



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adventures, Kind of Domestic, M/M, and things that they do, it's just their relationship, just enjoy it, like kill people and things, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelSMoran/pseuds/ColonelSMoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mormor adventures. Could be fluff one chapter, and blood play in the next. Either way, it's the relationship of the Consulting Criminal, Jim Moriarty and his best sniper, Sebastian Moran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Books Can Be Interesting Too

**Author's Note:**

> Sebastian was ignored the whole night for a couple of books, which Jim tended to do a lot. Finally he gave up and joined him for a sitting, enjoying it a bit more than he had originally expected to.
> 
> //If you have any suggestions or prompts, please leave them in the comment section! Enjoy! -R//

“Jim, you've been reading those books /all/ day. Don’t you want to go get dinner?” Sebastian sighed, tossing himself down beside the Irish man on the bed. His nose was stuck so far in the book, he swore he could see it coming out of the other side.

Watching Sebastian from the corner of his eye, Jim shook his head. “No. Books are much more interesting. Did you know that Guy Fawkes and the ‘Gunpowder Conspirators’ tried to blow up Parliament in 1605, failing horribly may I add, so now before every state opening of Parliament, the Yeomen of the Guard check the cellars for explosives?” Jim asked, completely absorbed in his book.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He’d heard a few things about Guy Fawkes’ attempt to blow up Parliament here and there, but he’d never actually gotten into it. Watching Jim call off facts about things was rather cute. “No, actually I didn't know that. Interesting.” He’d given up on the thought of dinner with Jim about ten minutes ago when he saw the man buried in his books nose deep still. Scooting closer to the smaller man, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his messy dark hair which was out of place terribly, sticking up in all directions. “Got any other interesting facts to tell me, Kitten?” He asked, rather interested in what Jim had to say. 

Quirking his eyebrow, Jim looked completely away from his book and up at Sebastian. Normally the sniper never got into things like this, but of course, Jim didn't normally call off random facts like he just had either. “Yeah… I do actually.” With a smile, he leaned up a bit, pressing a kiss to Sebastian’s lips before he turned back to his book, continuing to read and deciding and interesting fact to tell the blond. “Did you know that the coat of arms, Unicorn of Scotland had unicorns because in medieval times a free unicorn was considered a very dangerous beast that only a virgin could tame?”

“ Didn't know that either.” Sebastian laughed lightly, resting his cheek against the top of Jim’s head. “Go on, tell me more. It’s actually more interesting than what I thought. Now I see why you read all the time.” 

They sat there for five hours and thirty nine minutes, twenty seven seconds in total, Jim naming off random facts about history as Sebastian listened, asking certain questions every now and again, Jim answering them. Neither of them remembered falling asleep, but they did, books in their laps still, Sebastian’s arm wrapped around Jim’s shoulder just as if he had first sat down. 

Jim’s brain was certainly something that Sebastian loved. He decided he’d never try to pull Jim away from a book again, even if it meant they missed having dinner together.


	2. Watch Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has been waiting months for the release of the popular video game, Watch Dogs. Unfortunately, Sebastian gets dragged along at midnight when he wants to go pick the bloody thing up.

"Jim, what are we even doing here?" Sebastian grumbled, taking a puff off of his cigarette and looking over at his boss, 

who looked far too happy to even be safe. Here they were though, at this video game store which was apparently 

releasing some sort of game that Jim had been waiting for. 

 

"Watch Dogs, Sebastian. I'm waiting to get Watch Dogs. Now stop complaining." Jim reached over to slap his 

shoulder. It was playful of course, but Sebastian still glared at him, and Jim glared right back. "Stop giving me that 

look. You go on hits that require you to lay on a roof for ten hours sometimes, and you never complain about those!"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows and gave a low chuckle. Jim had to be fucking kidding. "Bullshit! I complain about 

those all the damn time! I just know if I don't stay there and get them done, I'll be sleeping on the damn couch." And 

thank god they wouldn't be standing here much longer. The line was getting shorter and shorter, and Jim was 

ignoring Sebastian now. 

 

A shiver ran through the criminal's whole body, causing him to pull his coat tighter around himself and making 

Sebastian raise his eyebrows once more. Without even saying a word, he shrugged out of his own leather jacket, 

draping it over Jim's shoulders now as the cold air was now brushing over Sebastian's bare arms. And he could see 

that stupid fucking smirk on Jim's face. The little shit. He'd known Sebastian was going to hand off his jacket. That's 

why he didn't listen earlier when the sniper had told him to pick up an extra because, 'Oh it's not going to be all that 

cold, 'Bastian'. Yeah fuckin' right. 

 

Thankful for when they got inside, Jim was practically bouncing around now, and Sebastian swore under his breath 

about how he didn't bring his camera phone along with him. If only he could record this.. 

 

Jim bounced up to the counter, holding out the reservation ticket that he'd had for the video game, tapping his fingers 

impatiently on the counter as he looked over his shoulder at Sebastian and smiled this big, goofy smile that made the 

sniper smile in return. Stupid Jim and his stupid bounciness over this game.. Sebastian wouldn't be getting sleep 

tonight, just knowing that Jim would be up all night playing that stupid game..

\--

Once they were back at the flat, Sebastian went off about making tea and Jim immediately changed back into his 

pajamas that he'd been wearing all day, curling himself up in the duvet in their room along with Sebastian's jacket 

that he still hadn't given back to him, the playstation controller in his hand already. 

 

"You're not sleeping tonight, are you?" Sebastian asked even though he already knew the answer, holding out a mug 

to Jim while his eyes were glued to the screen. 

 

Taking the cuppa and only having a small sip from it, Jim abandoned it on the bedside table and shook his head. "I've 

been waiting months for this game, and there is no way in hell that I'm going to sleep until I've beaten it." 

 

Needless to say, when Sebastian woke up the next morning, Jim was curled at his side like a kitten, the playstation 

remote still in his hand, and the TV still on with a pause screen on it. "Bloody video games. I knew you'd fall asleep." 

He chuckled to himself, picking up the remote and cutting off the television. The game would be fine left on. Besides, 

Jim would kill him if he hadn't saved yet, so Sebastian thought it best to just leave it alone as he moved the game 

controller, wrapping both his arms around Jim the best he could and going back to sleep.


	3. Chairs

Sir, Sebastian has been caught. -R  
Excuse me? -JM  
He’s been caught and none of us can get a clear shot or way into the building. -R  
You're all fucking worthless, and I’ll have your skin for my new rug. -JM

— 

Jim knew it would happen one day, Sebastian getting caught. But it had to be today of all the days. The meeting with the Russians hadn’t gone well, and Jim had barely made it out with his skin still in one piece. Now, he was driving through town on his way to save his best sniper who apparently can't even watch his own ass. But for some reason, Jim was more worried than upset - And that was dangerous.

When he arrived at the warehouse, (Of course he knew where Sebastian was. Global tracking devices weren't completely useless) Jim called in for his crew of gunmen. If they couldn't save Sebastian, they were going to die trying, and Jim would make sure of that. He thought of the best ways to get in, but sadly there was no better way of getting in, versus just bursting in through the front with guns blazing. So that’s just what he and his crew did. 

In times like these, Jim was thankful Sebastian had taught him how to properly shoot a gun, and how to fight. If not for that, he'd be dead, because the rest of his crew were already wiped out. It was sad that the most dangerous man in all of London had apparently hired a bunch of damn morons who couldn't handle their own. 

He searched nearly every room before finding Sebastian who was more than just a little beaten, bruised, and bloody. “You nearly failed, Sebastian. I'm disappointed~” Jim sing songed rather loudly, letting it bounce off of the blank, grey, filthy walls as he watched his sniper looking up at him.

"Yeah, I think I already know that one boss. Now how about you get me out of here - I've got a nice stab wound in my side that I'm dying to stitch up." Pun intended. Even nearly dead, Sebastian had a good sense of humor. Jim even cracked a smile - Or something more similar to a smirk. "No. Jim, I know that fucking face. Don't you dare. Uncuff me.”

Oh it was ever so fun to watch the sniper squirming and thrashing about in that chair, unable to move, unable to do anything. He was powerless.

"I just want to have a little bit of fun, Sebby.” Jim bent down, hissing in his ear as he straddled his lap, grabbing Sebastian by the jaw and turning his face harshly, a howl of pain coming from the sniper’s mouth. 

Despite all of his protests, he was already getting hard beneath Jim with those sweet hot breaths against his bruised and busted lips. Letting out a desperate whining noise, somewhere between a noise of pleasure and pain, Sebastian squirmed beneath Jim’s light body weight, hips grinding down hard against his own. “You're such a sick fuck.” Sebastian growled, tugging as hard as he could at the cuffs, just hoping they’d break so he could fuck Jim already. Of course it didn't work, and the metal only cut into Sebastian’s flesh, but it just fueled him to try harder, his hips raising the best they could to meet Jim’s. 

"I’m a sick fuck, but you’re even worse for liking it." Jim purred again, crashing their lips together hard, tasting Sebastian’s blood in his own mouth now as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth. 

Jim made a mental note - Tie Sebastian to chairs more often.


	4. Sentiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim hates sentiment with a burning fiery passion.

It never really bothered Jim - Sentiment, that is. That was until Sebastian came along. The damned sniper had made him break all of his rules that he’d set for himself. He made him /feel/ something, and now look at him! Two months after the mission in the states, and Jim was /still/ hurting. It was time to talk about it. This would be odd. James Moriarty didn’t do feelings. 

Forcing himself up from the spot in his chair, Jim retrieved his phone from the bedroom, sliding the damned thing open to text Sebastian. 

That job in the states I sent you on - Why did you sleep with that woman? -JM  
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jim. -SM  
Don’t do that. Don’t fucking lie to me, Moran. -JM  
[Delayed] Fine then. I did it. I slept with her. It was a drunken thing though, alright? -SM  
Why? -JM  
I was drunk. -SM  
That’s not a fucking excuse. -JM  
Why is it upsetting you so much? I thought you didn’t do sentiment? -SM  
[No response]  
Jim…? -SM  
Come home, Tiger. -JM  
Why? -SM  
You’ve made a mistake. None of my employees make a mistake - Especially not a mistake of hurting me. Nobody gets to do that, Moran. I hurt people, people don’t hurt me. -JM  
[Delayed] You’re going to off me then? -SM  
When an animal bites his owner, he gets put down. You’ve practically bitten me. I have to put you down, Tiger. -JM  
Fine. I’m on my way. -SM

———

 

Jim waited, gun in hand, sitting in his favourite leather chair and wearing his Westwood. A perfect thing for Sebastian to see before he dies - He gets to see what he’s missing now that he’s fucked up. Thirty minutes go by, Jim is just rambling to himself now, toying with the gun in his hand. When he hears the locks on the front door clicking, his eyebrows shoot to the sky and he’s up and out of his chair before Sebastian has the chance to even fully get inside. 

"Come on then," Sebastian called out, hanging up his jacket on the rack and moving to the living room. If Jim was pissed off, that’s where he’d be. That’s where he always was when he was mad. "Shoot me and get this over with." Those are the first words that leave his mouth as soon as he’s faced with his lover (ex-lover now?) Whatever. Not like it mattered. In a matter of a few seconds, the sniper would be dead anyways. Taking steps closer to Jim now, Sebastian stopped when the gun pressed against his temple, a flat line. Emotionless. 

Anger swelled up inside him when Sebastian didn’t show any signs of anything at all. “You don’t get to act like this. You’re supposed to fucking hurt the way I did. You’re supposed to feel!" Jim was shouting, pressing the gun against Sebastian’s head just so he had to tilt to the side so it wouldn’t be as painful. "Feel something, you arse!” He shouted again, his facade falling, his voice cracked and tears were welling in his eyes. Stop this - Don’t let him see you cry over him. He’s not worth it. 

After a good five minutes went by of Jim’s labored breathing being the only noise you could hear. The pain very evident on his face as the gun shook against Sebastian’s temple. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jim pulled the trigger. 

Click.

Nothing. 

Click, click. 

Silence. 

Dropping the gun to the floor, Jim’s body fell in unison with the gun, knees hitting the ground hard as Sebastian stared down at him in disbelief. Jim couldn’t do it. No matter how much the stupid fucker had hurt him, Jim couldn’t fucking kill him. 

Sebastian dropped down, pulling Jim tight to his chest. “Let go of me!” Jim screamed, pounding against the sniper’s chest, trying to squirm free of his grip which did him absolutely no good at all. He was stuck - But honestly he didn't want to get free. Sebastian made him feel safe even though he was hurting. “S-Stop it! Feel something you stupid fuck - Let m-me go!” All of the muscles in his body were shaking, the streams of tears flowing down his face.

No. Jim Moriarty didn't cry. Jim Moriarty didn't get hurt. Jim Moriarty didn't feel. 

Sebastian didn't say a word. He knew how Jim felt. Sebastian had fucked up and he knew it. He had hurt Jim and made him feel something that he wasn't used to at all. Something that he was afraid of. And just as soon as the criminal stopped shouting and pounding on his chest, Sebastian apologized. 

"I’m sorry, Jim.." 

"If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it." 

"I was drunk." 

"That’s no excuse- and I can’t even fucking kill you because I’m too in love with you! I’m too fucking dependent on you and you’ve hurt me and I can't even fucking kill you, you piece of shit!”

Shouting again and more tears. More silence. More labored breathing. More shaking. Then nothing. Within an hour, they were on the couch, Jim curled up to Sebastian’s side while that just sat in silence, listening to each other breathing. 

"I’m sorry, Jim." Sebastian tried again, placing a kiss to the top of Jim’s head. 

"I hate you." The criminal’s voice was just below a whisper, something that not just anyone would be able to hear, not if they weren't specifically listening for it. 

"I know, kitten.. I love you too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood warning in this one. Jim is a little shit.

Jim looked around the flat. Sebastian wasn’t home yet, and he was getting rather bored. The sniper hadn’t texted him back in the past few hours, but Jim knew he’d be home soon. An idea which would have normally be bad had come into his head as he slid to the side of the room. “Which pair to wear- Oh which pair.” Jim sang, pulling up a pair of dark blue jeans with a few holes in the front around the knee area. Perfect. 

Stripping out of his own clothes, he quickly put on the pants and sat on the bed. This should be /fun/. Sebastian always loved to see Jim in his clothe- He even found it hot. Turned him on just a bit. (Which was actually a lot.)

“Jim! I’m home!” Sebastian’s deep voice rang through the flat as he shrugged out of his jacket. Jim wasn’t anywhere in sight, and he automatically guess that the criminal would be in their room, probably working on his computer as usual. Shaking his head, he decided to get some tea first. 

Jim let out an annoying sigh. He hated when Sebastian ignored him for /tea/. Getting up and practically running downstairs, he had to hold up the pants which were far too large for him, nearly tripping over them just a few times. Sebastian wasn’t honestly fat. The man was just quite a lot more muscular than Jim, who had a thin frame. “Hello, Tiger.” Jim purred as his arms snaked around Sebastian’s waist from behind and burying his face into the other’s back. 

“Hey there, Kitten. Have a good day while I wa-” He turned, looking down at Jim with his back pressed against the counter, his breath catching in his throat. When he saw what Jim was wearing, a small whine and a smirk was produced. Just his trousers. Nothing more than that. Probably nothing underneath them either. Jim loved doing this sort of thing to him, just knowing exactly how it effected the sniper. “Well don’t you just look devilishly sexy today.” 

The smaller pulled his arms away, shoving them down into the pockets with a shy smile on his face. That was when he felt something in the pocket of the trousers. It was round, cold, smooth… A ring? Wrapping his hand around the small object, he pulled it from the pocket and opened his palm. It was indeed a ring. A small, golden ring that was rather simple.

“What in the hell is this, Sebastian?” Jim snapped, pinching the ring between two of his fingers and holding it in Sebastian’s face, waving it around. “Someone else left their ring in your pocket after you were done fucking them, huh? Thought I wouldn’t find out, Hmm?”

Of course he was angry! Why wouldn’t he be?! Sebastian was /cheating/ on him. After all he’d done for the man… After he’d opened up to him and poured out his fucking heart, Sebastian had the /nerve/ to do /this/!? “Jim, I-” He was trying to explain, but Jim didn’t want to hear it. Flinging the ring at Sebastian’s face, Jim made a move to reach around the taller and grab one of the kitchen knives, pressing it to the base of his throat horizontally and apply just enough pressure to be sort of painful.

“No,” Jim growled angrily, “You don’t get to explain this time. Just shut up, because I don’t want to hear your /pathetic/ excuse, Moran.” He moved the knife just a bit, seeing blood puddling at the tip. With a sick twisted smirk, he moved the knife and replaced it with his hand, pressing the sharp tip into Sebastian’s chest now right where his heart should be. Heart? Jim scoffed. The man couldn’t possibly have a heart. “You are /mine/, do you understand, Moran? You are /mine/ and nobody else can have you.”

The sniper was honestly afraid to speak, only small whimpers coming from his mouth as the cool liquid spilled from his now broken skin, dripping down to his favorite t-shirt. His /favorite/ shirt, now ruined with his own fucking blood. /Great/. Feeling a hand grab roughly at his hair, his body was drug towards the bedroom, before he was forced down roughly on the bed. It shouldn’t have been such a turn on when Jim was being this violent, but for some reason it was- A jolt of pleasure was sent straight to his crotch, feeling himself start to harden when Jim straddled his hips, knife still on his chest. Well, actually, /in/ his chest. 

Jim hated the stupid shirt that Sebastian was wearing, recalling actually wearing it himself once. Jealousy was burning in his heart, and anger of how Sebastian could have betrayed him like this. Digging the knife in deeper, he felt Sebastian’s hips roll upwards into his as he drug the knife’s tip along the skin and the shirt, drawing a ‘J’ into the flesh. “You’re /mine/.” His voice was reduced to a low possessive growl as he bent over, pressing a harsh kiss to Sebastian’s lips. The sniper was /his/ and he intended to mark the man. Make him know his place.

Sebastian didn’t say a word, feeling the knife in his chest. Initials. Of course the criminal would go for initials. What better way to mark his territory than with his initials? After ten long, painful minutes, he felt Jim’s hands tugging on his shirt, pulling it off of him as his pink lips were pressed on with the knife. “Jim, it was fo-” He was cut off once more when the blade was drawn away from his lips and slid down his abdomen harshly. 

Jim didn’t pull his lips away from Sebastian’s except to press the blade to his mouth, smearing it with his own blood. Marking him. He looked back at his handy work. A /very/ deep ‘JM’ was now carved right about Sebastian’s heart. “Beautiful.” He murmured, looking up at Sebastian, noticing how deep the cut on his throat actual was. It wasn’t really a cut. More like a gash. 

“Jim, please.” Sebastian pleaded, his hands grabbing onto the smaller man’s hips, rocking upwards. “It was for you. The ring was for you. I was going to propose on Sunday when you didn’t have work. I was… I was going to… I love you.” His voice was weak now, pleading for the pain to stop, for Jim to understand. For him to /listen/.

He froze. His whole body locked up, the knife held in his hand still as he looked down at Sebastian with softer eyes. His mood swings were terrible to be honest, absolutely painful to deal with if Sebastian had the right to say so. “F-For me? It was for me?” Jim asked, tossing the knife aside. Leaning down, he pressed a softer kiss to Sebastian’s lips- Much softer than the earlier one. This one was filled with love, hurt, apologies. 

“Of course it was for you, you fool.” Sebastian laughed lightly, pulling Jim’s body down on top of his fully, wrapping his large arms around the man’s small frame. Jim had honestly thought that Sebastian was sleeping with someone else… Ridiculous. The thought was pure ridiculousness. He leaned into the kiss, his head starting to swim. Blood loss. He was loosing a bit too much blood. “J-Jim.. I can’t. Not right now. I need to sleep.”

Pulling away, Jim looked down at the man again, noticed the blood smeared between the two of them on his own chest just as well as Sebastian’s. He gave a light nod, moving to get off of the sniper’s waist. “Alright… Alright. I’m sorry. I was.. I was afraid.” Jim breathed, laying comfortably beside Sebastian and feeling the large, muscular arm wrap protectively around him, pulling him flush against the tanned flesh. “I love you too, Sebastian. I love you. I can’t lose you. You can’t ever leave.”

His eyes were always falling shut, sleep starting to over-come him. After a night’s rest, he’d be as good as new again. He’d experienced things like this before. Nothing to worry about too much. “Y… Yeah. I don’t plan on leaving. I love you too, Kitten. Now, sleep. Please.” He whispered, planting one last kiss on Jim’s lips before he fell asleep, the blood still between them as the ‘JM’ stung in his chest. 

“Yeah.. Sleep.” Jim muttered, closing his eyes and kissing the new wound on Sebastian’s chest. Hopefully, Sebastian would still propose, because Jim had honestly wanted nothing more in his life but to marry the man. He didn’t feel bad in the least about what he’d done. Sebastian should have known that Jim would flip like that if he’d found the ring. The man should have kept a better watch on it. 

Jim smirked to himself as he fell asleep.


	6. Revenge in the form of tickling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is super crack! so just beware. It's really cute though so..

A damn long day at work- That’s how Sebastian would describe his day if anyone had actually cared to ask him. Right now, he was laying face-down on the couch, trying to catch a quick nap- The worst part is, he had no idea where Jim was at. That was usually a very bad thing. Normally the criminal would greet him when he first came in the door, asking about the hits and how they went before he’d move to the kitchen to make some tea, then Sebastian would go get a shower and go to sleep- Needless to say, he hadn’t had any tea.

 

Maybe I should get up and go find him?- No, I bet he’s just in his room stuck on his computer doing some sort of criminal work stuff. He still would have texted me when he knew I was home though… Probably too busy to pick up the phone. He’s always too busy. Might have went out to a meeting or something- that’s always a possibility too. I should just stop worrying. I’m sure he’s /fine/, wherever he’s at-

That’s when Sebastian was pulled rather violently from his thoughts, a light weight on his back now (had to be Jim. Nobody else was that small. Plus, nobody else could have gotten into the flat) Sebastian rolled over carefully with a grunt, looking up once he was laying completely flat on his back. Jim. He fuckin’ knew it. 

"Well hey- What are you doin’?" Sebastian asked smoothly, his voice threaded with sleep. Five kills today- two of them required hand to hand, and he only gained one potential scar. Joyful. Still he watched the criminal who was on top of him, raising his eyebrows.

The Irish man rolled his eyes, “I’m obviously sitting on you, ‘Bastian.” His hands slipped to the sniper’s sides, doing a little ‘sensitivity test’. If his little plan was going to go the way he wanted it to, he needed to make sure that Sebastian was as ticklish as he thought. The sniper jerked under the touch and started complaining- Perfect. “Ticklish?”

Sebastian let out a loud sigh, pushing Jim’s hands away, only to feel them back on his sides within a minute. Persistent little bastard- That’s what he was. “Jim- Don’t you dare. I’ve had one helluva day and I just wanna rest.”

"Come on. I wanna have fun," Jim whined as he showed no signs of actually stopping what he was doing. “Does the tiger not like being tickled?” He teased, pulling his hands back just so he could get them under the black shirt that Sebastian was wearing today. Jim made a mental note; Tell Sebastian that he should wear black shirts more often- They make him look good. (he always looked good though. The black shirts just helped even more)

The sniper groaned, grabbing a pillow to hold over his face. Tickling? Really? Since when had his boss enjoyed something so….normal? Didn’t seem like him at all. “No, I hate being tickled. Now if you’d just get off of me-” The sentence cut off right there when Jim started actually tickling him with a purpose. Little fucker- Sebastian would eventually get revenge for this. 

Sebastian was thrashing and whining below Jim now- That was normally the way the criminal liked to keep him. Even with the begging and the laughing, Jim couldn’t help but to laugh himself. Who would have thought something so stupid could actually be so fun? 

After about five minutes is when Sebastian had decided that, that was enough- Holding tight to Jim’s hips as he flipped the situation around. Literally. Jim was beneath Sebastian now, both of them panting for their breath with smiles still on their faces. Sometimes the sniper really hated Jim. Then again, sometimes he really loved Jim. This was one of those times where he wasn’t quite sure which one would fit best, but he still decided that he loved the annoying man, despite all the fucked up things he had to go through due to him.


	7. Tigers Don't Ice Skate.

For the past hour and a half, Sebastian had sat on the side of an outdoors ice skating rink, watching Jim skate around and do all sorts of twirls and things before the criminal came over to him, begging for him to join. Sebastian put on his skates, a scowl on his face the entire time. He didn’t want to skate- He just wanted to go home. Jim wanted him to skate though, so he’d at least fucking try, he supposed. 

 

"Jim, why do we even have to do this? It’s so /stupid/." 

"Because, Sebastian, I think that it’s fun. Now stop complaining and come on."

"I don’t even know /how/ to ice skate…."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, tiger! Come on, I’ll teach you."

Sebastian didn’t even like this idea. It was all Jim’s thing. He was just pulled along because- well because he’s Jim’s boyfriend and the criminal refused to go and do anything in public without him. 

After a few moments, Jim had managed to pull Sebastian out onto the ice with a big goofy smile plastered on his face. ‘Bastard’, Sebastian thought to himself as he rolled his eyes, staying as still as he possibly could. “Jim, I don’t want to do this. Come on, can’t we just go home and watch telly or somethin’?” Complaining was the sniper’s usual approach to things, but it never worked.

"No, we’re not going home until you know how to ice skate. Now, it’s like walking, except you /glide/ when you step. Give me your hand, and try taking a step forward." Jim held out his hand and waited. If Sebastian didn’t do this the easy way, Jim could always just yank on his hand until the sniper would /have/ to learn how to actual skate so he didn’t bust his arse. For some reason, Jim knew he was going to do that anyways. 

Arguing was going to get him nowhere. Sebastian put his hand in Jim’s with a sigh before moving to take a shakey step forward. Slippery. Dangerous- That’s what he thought of ice skating. He’d never had time for it before, and never bothered to learn, so in his mind it was /stupid/. Once the first step was rather successful, he looked over to Jim and smiled. “There, happy? I took one step. Can we go home now?” 

Jim shot a mean glare in the sniper’s direction, shaking his head again. “No. We aren’t going home until you can ice skate. That was /one fucking step/, Sebastian. You’re going to take more than one step- That doesn’t even classify as ice skating. That was technically just stepping on ice.” With his free hand, Jim straightened out his large coat and looked down at his jeans. He probably should have worn something thicker. It was fucking /freezing/ out here. He ignored it, looking back up at Sebastian and giving his hand a squeeze. “Come on, tiger. Just try taking a few more steps. Left, right- You know how to walk. Just try it. I’ll catch you if you fall,” Jim joked, knowing that it wouldn’t be possible. 

Sure enough, after three good steps, Sebastian was laying on his arse, and Jim was lying right beside him, laughing. “Told you I didn’t know how to skate. Should’ve just went home.” The sniper grumbled, looking up at the stars that were in the sky before turning his head to look over at Jim. Christ- that smile on his face looked wonderful. Sincere. It was rare that Jim actually smiled and laughed. Normally his day was full of work and replying to stupid ‘Dear Jim’ emails- nothing to smile about. 

Eventually the criminal evened out his breathing again and rolled over on the ice, laying his head on Sebastian’s chest. He hadn’t actually expected the sniper to /fall/, but damn it was hilarious either way. “You… oh my god, you actually /fell/ on your arse… Christ Sebastian, I thought you were kidding,” Jim started to laugh again. They were both going to be sore in the morning, but right now this was just too fucking priceless. 

"Shuttup." An embarrassing blush rose on the sniper’s face as he looked down at Jim. "Can we /please/ go home now?" He asked softly as he leaned down just a bit to kiss Jim. 

The kiss was short and sweet, and when they broke apart Jim nodded, “Yeah. We can go home now.”

Needless to say, when the next morning came, neither of them got out of bed. They were too sore, and Jim had managed to catch a common cold- having Sebastian run to go get medicine for him before he pulled the sniper back in the bed for warmth. 

"We’re never going ice skating again, kitten."


End file.
